


No Surrender.

by JamieB93



Series: Blood Feud [8]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Awesome May Parker (Spider-Man), BAMF Ben Parker, Ben Parker Lives, Ben Parker is angry, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Dark Harry, F/M, Harley Keener & Peter Parker are Siblings, Harley Keener Needs a Hug, Harley Keener is a Good Bro, Harry Osborn & Peter Parker are Siblings, Hurt Peter Parker, Insane Norman Osborn, Kid Harry Osborn, Kid Peter Parker, Mentioned Skip Westcott, Murder, Norman Osborn Being a Jerk, Norman Osborn's A+ parenting, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Peter Parker Angst, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Peter Parker is Trying His Best, Peter Parker is a Good Bro, Peter Parker is a Mess, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Ben Parker, Protective Harry Osborn, Protective May Parker (Spider-Man), Rape, Sexual Abuse, Supportive May Parker (Spider-Man), Violent Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:16:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24589696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamieB93/pseuds/JamieB93
Summary: There was one day where Ben Parker, in search of a purpose, happened to look at his nephew in the eye. Peter's eyes were beautiful and sparkled with light and mischief and kindness, yet they also held a weight. A weight that no child should have to bear. A suffering so potent that Ben knew in that very second that from then on, it was going to be his life's work to keep Peter safe.And so, that's what he did.But failure was no stranger to Ben Parker and heartbreak no stranger to Peter. It was an almost futile mission.
Relationships: Ben Parker & Mary Parker, Ben Parker & Peter Parker, Ben Parker & Richard Parker, Ben Parker/May Parker (Spider-Man), Harley Keener & Harry Osborn, Harley Keener & Peter Parker, Harry Osborn & Peter Parker, Norman Osborn & Ben Parker, Norman Osborn/Mary Parker
Series: Blood Feud [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1709539
Comments: 56
Kudos: 110





	No Surrender.

**Author's Note:**

> heyy, sorry for the longer wait, but the world's been crazy and I didn't feel like writing such heavy material in the midst of it all. But we're here now, it's done and oh honeys, you got a big storm coming!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

**Blood Feud:** The Gathering Storm

Part Eight: No Surrender.

_Saturday, August 16 th, 1997, May Reilly’s apartment, Queens, New York._

“Coffee’s done!” May said smugly as a hung-over Ben walked into his kitchen, sitting at her cozy dining table feeding two-year old Harry Osborne some porridge, “Props to not waking Harry up when you stumbled in at 3am.”

“Well, I never see Rich all that much” Ben yawned as he poured himself a much-needed cup and sat down next to her, “I don’t think you can deny two brothers one night out on the town when they haven’t seen one another for a year.”

“I suppose not” May sighed, “How was he anyway? I thought he might have ended back here with you. Did he at last appreciate the watch”

“He was fine, I guess” Ben replied as Harry giggled loudly for no real reason, “Didn’t want to come back here once I told him that….y’know….but yes, he seemed very taken with the watch”

Ben gestured to Harry as May rolled her eyes. Richard hadn’t wanted to come back to the apartment once he found out Mary’s son was there. Ben understood why but he knew May would find the excuse pathetic, which judging by her facial expression, she definitely did.

“He needs to get over this” she sighed, as she hugged Harry a little closer to her and kissed him on the head, “We could all have the best of both worlds if he’d just forget about Mary and move on.”

Ben smirked. He loved May so much, she was such a firecracker, but there were times where she tended to forget that people had feelings and getting over someone wasn’t just some overnight thing.

“You’ve never really felt the pain of unrequited love before have you, darling” he asked as her as he grabbed a piece of toast.

“Do you see me settled down and married to Shaun Cassidy?” she smirked, “But no, I guess I haven’t really….sucks, does it?”

“The worst” Ben told her, “Rich is trying his best but I don’t think he’s ever going to able to stop loving her and it hurts him, a lot. Just try and be a little more understanding, please, he is meant to be your friend as well”

May nodded and kissed him on the forehead before handing over Harry to him whilst she went to grab a shower. They’d been looking after the toddler for the last week as Mary had just given birth to a second son, Peter, and May had offered to take Harry off of the new parents hands whilst they settled the new baby in at home. Mary and Norman had jumped at the opportunity which Ben didn’t exactly condemn but it didn’t help the nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach that his and May’s lives were beginning to revolve around the comings and goings of Mary and Norman Osborne a little too much.

Still, Ben was fond of Harry and he was a very well-behaved toddler. He just wasn’t a massive fan of kids. Never have been. He supposed it came from the fact he’d more or less had to raise Richard by himself after their mother died and their father spent their adolescent years drinking himself into an early grave.

He and May had agreed early on their relationship that they didn’t want kids of their own, they just weren’t those kinds of people. Ben wanted to work to live, not live to work, and that would be the case if they had a gaggle of kids to run around after. Harry chatted away happily to himself on Ben’s lap as the man pulled across the newspaper and started flicking through it.

“Unca Beh happy?” Harry asked after a few minutes, blinking as he looked up at Ben with those emerald green eyes that were almost the spitting image of his mothers.

“Yes, very happy” Ben replied with a smile, “Is Harry happy?”

“Happy!” the boy cooed back, bouncing a little, “A’way happy with Unca Beh!”

“And Uncle Ben’s always happy when he’s with you” Ben said fondly and planted a kiss on the top of Harry’s head causing the toddler to giggle, turn himself around, stand on Ben’s knees and throw his arms around the man’s neck. Ben giggled and held him in place as he began to wobble a bot.

It was only when he heard the unmistakable sound of May’s polaroid camera clicking that he looked across the room. His fiancé was standing with her arms folded at their bedroom door, looking lovingly at him as Harry bounced up and down on his knee.

“You are such a softy!” she teased as she made her way across the room.

“I am a kind and benevolent hero born of trauma and grit” Ben corrected her as he handed Harry into her waiting arms, “This one just gets underneath my skin”

“Whatever tough guy, you love it” May rolled her eyes before Harry laughed again and booped her on the nose. She booped him back and Ben swore he’d never loved anyone else quite like he loved May Reilly.

“A’May see Mama?” Harry asked as he began to chew on his plushie once again. May smiled and gently removed it from the grasp of his baby gnashers.

“Yes, baby, we’re seeing Mama today” she said enthusiastically, “Once we’ve finished our breakfast, me and you and Uncle Ben are going to drive back home and Mama will be there with your new little brother.”

“Peecha!” Harry squawked happily, having been informed of his little brother’s name a few days before.

“Maybe we wanna give young sir’s face a bit of a wipe before we leave” Ben suggested, noting the jam that was smothered across pretty much the entire bottom half of Harry’s face, “Or maybe it’ll be worth seeing Norman’s face if we return his golden boy in this condition.”

May smiled and gently wiped Harry’s jam smeared face as the boy giggled and turned his head away trying to avoid it. A game they always seemed to end up playing after every meal they had.

“No clean! No clean!” Harry said hysterically as May finished and began to tickle him, “No clean no like clean!”

*

Mary and Norman were spending the rest of the summer settling Peter down in Norman’s families old mansion on Long Island before moving back to Manhattan in the fall. Ben didn’t really understand the point as they’d have to spend just as much time re-adjusting Peter to city life when they eventually did move but he figured it wasn’t really his business. The drive to Long Island took just under an hour; Ben drove so May could hold Harry in her arms and allow him to get some rest before what was bound to be an overly exciting and therefore tiring day for the two-year old. Harry still couldn’t fall asleep unless he was being rocked by someone which both Ben and May had agreed they were concerned about considering how much of his mother’s time was going to be taken up by Peter and Norman had never exactly been a hugger.

“Think he’ll be a good big brother?” Ben asked with a smile once Harry had slumped and fallen asleep on May’s shoulder.

“Oh the best” May replied with affection, “He’s so kind and open. Look how much he loves to give hugs and get hugs. He’ll be the best big brother in the world…..after you, of course.”

“Dunno about that” Ben sighed, “Richard’s not exactly what you’d call stable is he? Not exactly secure in himself or living what could be described as a healthy kind of lifestyle.”

“I don’t know how many times I have to explain that that’s not on you” said May, “Richard’s a big boy, the choices he’s made in the last five years have absolutely no reflection on you or your influence on him. You’ve been an excellent brother, it’s not your fault if Richard’s been on a path of self-destruction for the last few years.”

“I suppose” Ben conceded.

Truth was, he did blame himself for the state that Richard was in. He hadn’t really gone into full details with May yet but his little brother had said and done a lot of things the previous evening which had given Ben cause for concern. Namely the amount he drank and the fact that Ben had found cocaine in his coat pocket when Richard wasn’t looking. He hadn’t said anything, on some level he accepted that the choices Richard was making as an adult were no longer down to him but he still couldn’t help but chastise himself a little bit for the way Richard’s life was panning out.

It was all to do with Mary.

Ben could still remember Richard coming home after that first semester of his freshman year, full of the joys about some girl named Mary Holland and how was he sure she liked him and how she was going to be his wife one day. He was in love with her. That kind of deep, self-sacrificing, scary love that drives you insane if you have it and down the path of self-destruction if you don’t. Rich had a lot of love to give and no outlet to give it. Ben wondered if him taking up with Mary’s best friend had just been salt in Richard’s wounds. Maybe the fact that May being in their lives and therefore May tangentially being linked in with constant updates about her happy marriage and her (now two) beautiful son hadn’t exactly been the breakaway Richard had needed to get over her.

But Ben knew one thing for sure as he looked over at May in the passenger seat, little Harry asleep in her lap, and that was that nothing in this world would ever make him give her up. It was an impossibility. May was simply too important.

“Thinking again?” she asked him softly after around ten minutes of silence.

“You caught me” he grinned

“I’d like to think it was about me” she told him, “But I know it was about that brothers of yours, I know when you’re not telling me something Ben. Whatever it is, you can share it with me, you know that right?”

“I know” Ben said as he flashed her a smile, “Look, I know you’re not his biggest fan these days but-“

“It’s not about that” May interjected quickly, “The only reason I’m angry with him is because I know he can be so much more. Do so much more. Live up to being the person we know he can be. It’s frustrating to see him falter and having to have the right thing spelled out to him, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t love him. Or that I hate him. I just want him to be better, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“But don’t you think he’s trying?” Ben asked.

“Maybe” she sighed, “And I know that he’s probably got shit going on that we don’t know about but we can’t help him unless he realizes he needs it. Does he realize that?”

Ben shrugged. He honestly wasn’t sure. Richard had avoided all talk of Mary last night, barely even acknowledging when Ben told her she’d just had her baby, and then sweet talked some waitress into going home with it. It was clear he was drinking too much and having a string of one-night stands in order to deal with his pain but whether Richard realized that was why he was doing what he was doing was anyone’s guess.

They arrived at Norman’s mansion about twenty minutes later. Usually buzzing with staff, it seemed decidedly empty and quiet as Ben and May pulled up with Harry. The toddler had woken up about five minutes before and was now beside himself with excitement knowing his Mama was just a few seconds away from him, he was practically vibrating on May’s leg. The boy pretty much jumped from her lap once the car door was open and ran into the house as fast as his little legs could carry him. May sighed and followed after him as Ben smirked.

Both had disappeared off somewhere by the time Ben entered the house, which was in utter disarray and subject to some very loud wailing. Ben poked his head into Norman Osborne’s study where he found the man gently walking back and forth with a newborn baby in his arms, looking utterly desperate and bereft to stop him from crying.

“Oh Benjamin, you’re here” Norman sighed as he turned to face Ben, “Thank you for looking after Harold this week. A bit of a shame you’ve brought him back really, as you can tell we’ve not quite managed to get Peter settled yet.”

Ben shrugged.

“We’re always happy to have him if you need more time, man” he replied, cringing a little as the baby’s screeching was not doing wonders for his hangover, “Just maybe not for a few days, he’s been really struggling without Mary this week…and…and you, of course.”

“I doubt it” Norman said bitterly, “Proper little Mummy’s boy that one. Hoping I might be able to finally get a look in with Pete here.”

Ben peered up and got his first glimpse of Peter’s face which was chubby, red, and contorted into a pained expression. He grimaced a little.

“Where is Mary?” he asked.

“I sent her to get some sleep” Norman replied, “Heaven knows it’s a miracle if she’s actually managed to get any with this racket going on, especially if I’m right and Harold’s first instinct on coming home was to run up to her bed and jump on it.”

Ben smiled. They both knew that was exactly what Harry will have done. The boy was excited to meet his baby brother, sure, but it was nothing compared to how much he’d missed and been looking forward to seeing his Mom again.

Just as Ben was about to make excuses for himself to leave and find May, the phone in Norman’s study rang and the man cried out in frustration.

“God damn it!” he snarled, “They were meant to call this afternoon. I-I gotta take this Ben, I’m sorry it’s too important, could you possibly just hold Peter for like five minutes whilst I deal with this?”

“I, err-“ Ben tried to argue. He’d never held a newborn baby in his entire life and the prospect was daunting. Even when Harry had been an infant, Ben had never held him. That had only come into play in the last six months when Harry’s ability to remember faces and names had improved and he’d become ‘Unca Beh’ who was subjected to having this two-year old more or less throw himself into Ben’s arms whenever they saw one another.

Holding Peter. Soft, squishy, newborn Peter who was probably extremely easy to break or drop was something else entirely. He didn’t really have time to react though as the next thing he knew, Norman had deposited Peter into his arms and was hurrying them both out of the room so he could get on with his phone call.

Ben found himself and Peter back in the hallway, the boy still crying hysterically as he began to walk up and down, gently bouncing Peter in what he hoped was a soothing manner the same they did in movies.

“Hey, so….you’re Peter” he whispered at the baby, “I’m…I’m Ben. I’m your Mom’s best friends husband and you’ll probably call me Uncle. That’s me. I’m your Uncle Ben.”

Peter’s cries seemed to weaken a bit as Ben carried on talking to him.

“Err, me and your Aunt May live in Queens” he continued, “We have an apartment and it’s not as big as this house but we’ve got a special room for you and your brother. I guess they’ve already told you all about your big brother, Harry, huh? He’s a cheeky little monkey but you gotta love him. I….I know I do, so…”

It seemed stupid. He was talking to his baby who wasn’t even a week old yet as if Peter would understand every word he was saying when logically he knew there was no way and yet, the fact that Peter had all but stopped crying and was glancing up at Ben with almost expectant eyes seemed to suggest that somehow….the kid did understand. Ben shook his head and laughed. He must’ve been going crazy.

“And I think you’re gonna be a bit different, aren’t you?” he went on, fully aware of how crazy he sounded but at least Peter had stopped crying, “Yeah, I can tell already. I know you’ve been making a lot of noise but something tells me you’re gonna be a bit less of a little Tasmanian devil than your big bro…”

And just then, Peter did it. Set Ben on a path that he would never be able to deviate from for the rest of his life. The baby yawned and Ben slowly felt one extraordinarily little finger creep around one of his. Ben stopped talking and immediately looked down, meeting Peter’s honey brown eyes for the first time and feeling like something was piercing his heart. The baby cooed a little. Ben shook his head, surely he was going crazy? There was no way a week-old baby could be having this kind of an affect on him. It took someone shaking his shoulder to break him out of his trance.

“You did it” Mary Osborne breathed beside him, “We’ve been trying to get him to settle all week and you…thank you, Ben.”

“Oh, I didn’t really do anything” Ben said slowly as Mary gently lifted baby Peter out of his arms and into hers. Thankfully, the movement did not seem to bother him and he was happy to let Mary sway him.

“Believe me, you wouldn’t be saying that if you’d been here for the last week” she smirked, Ben noting how worn out she looked, “He’s OK with me but whenever Norman’s in the room he just goes insane. Shame, really. I think Norman was really hoping he’d bond with this one sooner than he did with Harry.”

Ben smiled and carried on looking at Peter. What was it? There was some kind of pull there already, stronger than nearly anything Ben had ever felt. Maybe he was just feeling soppy because he was hungover but he swore it was like Peter was able to hear and understand every word he’d said.

“He’s beautiful, Mary, really” Ben told her.

“I know” she said fondly as she smiled at him, “Oh but having two of them is going to give me some sleepless nights for a long while, yet. Hey….hey, look, he’s fallen asleep. We actually managed to get him to fall asleep.”

Ben smiled.

“It was you who swayed him” he told her.

“And it was you who made him feel safe and calm” she said as she leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek, “I’m going to go and put him down for an hour, May’s on hand making us all some lunch. You’ll stick around for the rest of the day, yes?”

“Why do I feel that’s not actually a request, Mrs. Osborne?” he asked her. She smiled.

“Thank you, Ben” she replied, “I know I had my doubts when you and May first got together but I’m really pleased that you’re a part of this hectic clusterfuck I call a family.”

Ben’s smile remained as he watched Mary carefully walk up the stairs and into Peter’s new bedroom. Years later, Mary would tell him that Peter was the most peaceful and quiet baby in the world after that day, that they never had another night of staying up with him until the early hours. Ben was never sure if he quite believed that, but he’d have liked to. Something changed that day. There was something about Peter that set Ben on to a whole different path.

*

_Friday 30 th July 2004, Osborne Manor Swimming Pool, Long Island, New York._

Ben’s job as head of Norman Osborne’s security was proving to be an increasingly strange and unexpected one. He didn’t suppose that many heads of security of notorious and well-known celebrity businessmen were scheduled in to give the children of those same businessmen swimming lessons whilst their father was at a political rally in Texas. Surely, as head of security, Ben should have been there…..heading up the security. But no, instead, he found himself in the middle of Norman Osborne’s gratuitously big home swimming pool teaching his sons how to swim. 

Well, that was only partly the truth. Harry, cocksure and confident in the way only a nine-year old boy could ever seem to be, was far too mature and advanced in his swimming skills to need lessons from Ben thank-you-very-much. He was swimming entire lengths and widths of the pool effortlessly, diving straight in to the deep end without a second thought, performing handstands and cartwheels and just generally showing off. There was no point trying to teach Harry anything, if there was even anything left for him to learn, the kid was an already an irrepressible atom bomb of a person and couldn’t really be contained.

Harley, only five, was a bit too young for proper swimming lessons. He seemed to be perfectly happy splashing about in the shallow end of the pool with May as she threw him different items to collect and bring back to her. Ben supposed that was a lesson in itself as it was getting Harley used to being in the water. The boys’ mother was also in the shallow end, stopping Harley from swimming out any further than he was ready to, which left Ben trying to teach an extremely nervous six-very-soon-to-be-seven-year-old Peter some basic skills in the middle of the pool.

“You’ll be fine” Ben assured him, “I’m here, I’m not going to let anything happen to you, you don’t trust me don’t you Petey?”

Peter, who was standing on the edge of the pool, arm bands strapped so tightly that Ben was honestly a little worried about his blood circulation, the goggles on his face not exactly hiding his nervous tears, waiting to jump in and swim to Ben. He’d always been a nervous kid and swimming was his latest point of anxiety. Ben clocked Peter look over enviously towards Harry who was splashing about like a dolphin in the deep end and knew the boy desperately wanted the confidence to go and play with his big brother. Ben sighed as Peter’s whole body began to shake.

“What if I drown?” Peter asked.

“You won’t” Ben said calmly, “I’m here and I won’t let anything like that happen to you. I promise.”

“I’m scared” Peter admitted.

“I know buddy, but you’ll be fine” Ben said with a smile, “Just climb in and then swim to me using your arms like we practiced. And I’ll be right here, arms open, waiting. You can do it, I promise you.”

“But I’m not a good swimmer!” Peter moaned tearfully

“Yet. Remember that’s our word when we think bad things about ourselves” Ben reminded him, “You’re going to be a good swimmer because we’re going to learn together.”

Peter nodded silently before taking a deep breath, closing his eyes, sitting down and slowly climbing into the pool. Ben was aware that Mary, May, and Harry had all stopped what they were doing and watched as Peter stepped into the water and shivered a little at the sudden cold. His teeth chattered adorably but he looked reasonably proud of himself as May and Mary cheered their congratulations from the shallow end. Harley splashed about happily and laughed. Harry swam over.

“Cold” Peter shivered in the water.

“You get used to it, Peter!” Harry assured his little brother, “Are you gonna come and swim with me?”

“You know the rules, Harry” Ben told him, “Peter can’t set foot in the deep end with you until he’s swam safely down here with me.”

“Then I’ll stay and help!” Harry announced with a grin, “It’ll be quicker if I help! And I’ll swim next to you so you won’t feel scared, OK Peter?”

Peter nodded quickly. Ben’s heart didn’t exactly sore as he’d been around the boys for more than three hours now and heart soaring was something that happened ten times in the first thirty seconds, it had been sky high for hours. But it was a beautiful sight to see as Ben stood back on the other side of the pool and watched with a smile as Peter began essentially doggy paddling and struggling to keep his head above the water whilst Harry swam slowly next to him shouting encouragement all the way. They got to about half-way when Peter seemed to realize just how far away he was from either side and begun to freak out. He came to a dead stop and started crying and splashing about.

Ben slowly and gently made his way over to the boy and held him close to his chest as he cried and his little shoulders shook.

“You did so well Petey!” Harry said enthusiastically, “Look it! You made it half way on your first go, that’s so good!”

“Scared” Peter cried as he shook in Ben’s arms, “Too much water. Scared.”

“Do you want to get out?” Ben asked Peter softly. He could tell Peter was overwhelmed and terrified and probably just wanted to get out of the pool, dry off and have a towel hug from his Mom for the rest of the afternoon. But six years old he may have been, Ben already knew that in Peter’s little head everything that he wanted came after what other people did, his fate had been sealed today the second that Harry had said he wanted Peter to come and swim in the deep end with him. The water could be infested with piranhas now and Peter wouldn’t get out until he’d given Harry what he wanted. It wasn’t Harry’s fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault really and there was no stopping it. It’s just who Peter was to his bones and Ben almost dreaded the years ahead and how much worse it was all going to get. All they could do was encourage Peter to practice as much self-care as he can.

He could see the mental gymnastics Peter was subjecting himself to as his eyes darted between Harry, his mother, May, Harley, and Ben trying to analyze what they all wanted from him without even a single second to consider what he wanted to do.

“I, err-“ he hesitated and Ben got his hopes up for a second that Peter might actually choose what was best for himself for once, “I wanna try again.”

Ben hid his slight disappointment and gave Peter a quick kiss on the head before letting Harry swim back over to the edge of the pool with him. Mary winked at Ben and mouthed ‘thank you’ as he took his place opposite Peter and re-created his arms out pose from before. Harry counted Peter down from five before they set off again and the cheers from everyone else resumed as Peter began to swim towards Ben again.

“Go on Petey!”

“Well done honey, keep going, keep going”

“Come on Pete, come to me” Ben said encouragingly as Peter managed to pass the point he’d freaked out at minutes before and carried on swimming towards him, “Come on, come on, you’re nearly here. You’re nearly here.”

“You can do it, Petey, you can do it!” Harry said as he swam alongside Peter who was just about managing to keep his head above water, “You’re nearly there!”

Peter laughed as he finally managed to pass Ben’s arms having successfully managed to swim a full width of the pool unaided. Ben cheered and hoisted Peter into the air as everyone else around them shouted their celebrations and made their way over. Before they arrived, Ben brought Peter gently back down and the boy flung his arms around Ben’s neck.

“I did it, Uncle Ben!” he cheered, “I did it! Thank you!”

Ben smiled as Peter’s hands clutched to his chest and shook a little.

“We good, pal?” Ben asked.

“I did it! I did something good for one time!” Peter beamed. Ben didn’t have time to really react or say anything before Mary had reached them and taken Peter into her own arms, a barrage of kisses on the top of his head.

“Well done baby!” she said, “You did so well!”

“Well done Petey!” Harry said happily, “Now we can play in the pool together.”

“I can play as well!” Harley argued, “I wanna play too”

“Little bit of time before that, baby” May told him, “You’re gonna have to make do with me until you’re a bit bigger.”

Harley crossed his arms and frowned but Ben could tell he wasn’t really mad. May was probably his favourite person to spend time with.

“Can you throw him into the pool like you do with me, Uncle Ben?” Harry asked. Peter’s eyes widened and he shook his head.

“No, that’s scary!” he exclaimed. Ben laughed as a splash war began. Maybe there was some hope for Peter after all. All he knew for sure was that he would both kill and be killed for the Osborne boys. But Peter. He’d never say it, but god….he’d do anything for Peter.

*

_Friday 13 th January 2006, Osborne Penthouse balcony, Manhattan, New York._

Their father was dead. His and Richard’s.

Died of an overdose on Christmas Day and stayed dead and undetected in his slum like apartment for six days until neighbors complained of the smell and bust the doors down to investigate.

Fifty-Nine years on the planet and all Ben Parker’s father had to show for it was two twenty dollar bills that he would have likely only squandered on more booze, an overgrown houseplant that now sat awkwardly in May’s lockup and two emotionally battered sons who had spent their entire lifetimes determined not to be like him.

All the fights, all the bruises, all the begging him to clean up his act, step up to the plate and become a real father had meant nothing in the end. Ben had spent the last twenty-five years swearing he hated the man and yet when he found out, all he wanted to do was curl up into a ball and cry his heart out. Richard had reacted in anger. He truly didn’t care, or at least he said he didn’t and Ben honestly didn’t have the strength to force him to address the situation in a healthy way. Richard was a big boy now, if he wanted to hit the self-destruct button again for a while, who was Ben to stop him?

May had been great, ever a rock. She’d only met their father one a handful of occasions and to say they didn’t exactly see eye to eye had been an understatement. But Ben’s wife was nothing if not understanding and she had been so incredibly patient and kind with him since they’d got the news that Ben wished he could buy her the moon and the stars. He truly, truly did not deserve her.

They were babysitting the Osborne boys that night as Norman and Mary had some swanky hot shot dinner to attend. Ben had been reluctant to come at first, content to spend another night in front of the electric fire at home, a bottle of whisky not too far away, but May had managed to persuade him to tag along. He needed to get out and if there ever was an emotional tonic, it was those Osborne boys.

It had been a good night. They’d ordered takeout and Ben had smiled with ease as he listened to Harry talking about his day at school and his new ‘girlfriend’, Peter excitedly chatter about what he’d discovered with the microscope he’d gotten for Christmas a few weeks back and Harley giggle his way through his new found hobby of telling jokes. Ben basked in the light of the three beautiful children and let himself forget his troubles for a few hours. They were in bed now and May had gone to rest with Harley who always struggled to get to sleep when his Mom was not in the house.

So, Ben was alone on the balcony, facing out over the Manhattan nightline with a bottle of scotch in hand. He sighed as he lit a cigarette and took in a big puff.

“I didn’t know you smoked, Uncle Ben” a small voice rang out from behind him. Ben turned around and flicked the cigarette to one side as Peter Osborne pretty much fell through the patio doors and into his arms. Ben hoisted the boy up so he was seated on his lap.

“I don’t really, pal” Ben sighed, “Special circumstance.”

“Smoking’s dangerous, Uncle Ben” Peter told him with that adorable wise node of his that preceded some kind of scientific rant beyond his years, “It makes your lungs all shriveled up and can give you cancer. You shouldn’t smoke because people would be really sad if you got cancer.”

“I know pal, I know” Ben sighed as he ran his hands through Peter’s curly locks, “What’re you doing up and out of bed, eh? Way past your time.”

“Couldn’t sleep” Peter said with a shrug, “Felt like you might need me.”

“I might need you?” Ben asked.

“Yeah” Peter looked up at him with a smile as he spoke softly, “You looked sad over dinner and I heard Mama telling Dad that you and Uncle Rich might be sad for a while so I wanted to make sure you’re OK!”

“Peter, I-“ Ben sniffled. He loved Peter to death but he was so not in the right state of mind for Peter Osborne’s scarily, soul encompassing kindness right now without becoming a blubbering mess, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did!” Peter enthused, “You always make us happy when we’re sad so I gotta make you happy when you’re sad…..why are you sad, Uncle Ben?”

Ben took a deep breath. Peter was only eight but there was something telling Ben that this boy would understand.

“My dad died” he told Peter sadly, “And he wasn’t a particularly good dad. He didn’t treat me or your Uncle Rich very good when we were kids and I was angry with him for a long time. I don’t know how to feel about it.”

“Oh” Peter’s small voice echoed out beneath Ben, who felt like he was floating, “I’m sorry, that must suck. I’m sad your Dad wasn’t nice to you…..Dad’s should be nice to their kids…”

Peter sighed a little bit at the end and Ben squeezed him a little tighter in his arms. He knew to an extent that Peter already knew and understood what he was talking about.

“Are you sad because you miss him?” Peter asked.

“A little” Ben admitted, “Wish I could have at least seen him before he died.”

“My Dad isn’t very nice to us sometimes” Peter said, eyes blinking away though holding none of the innocence every other inch of the boy’s body portrayed, “But I’d still be really sad if he died, I guess.”

Ben smiled and tucked Peter in closer to him.

“You never have to worry when I’m around you, kiddo” Ben told him, resting his chin on the top of Peter’s head, “As long as I’m around, you’ll always be safe. I promise. No one will hurt you, and if they do, God help them”

It was a bitter statement. One filled with unjustified anger and one he probably shouldn’t have let the boy hear, but that didn’t make it any less true.

Peter hummed. “I was meant to be looking after you” he moaned. “You really mean that? What would you do”

Ben rolled his eyes and sighed. This damn kid. Of course, Ben wouldn’t scare the kid by revealing just how far he’d go, but God he’d meant it.

“Of course I mean it” Ben sighed, “You know me, I don’t say things I don’t mean, do I?”

Peter shook his head and yawned.

“You need to go to bed, young man” Ben told him.

“No, I have to make sure you’re OK” Peter moaned, “You’re still sad, I can tell.”

“Peter, please-“

“Let me help” Peter said sadly, “I wanna help make you happy again. Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

It felt like the future flashed right before Ben’s very eyes and he was left with nothing but a sense of icy dread. Just how many times was this sweet, open, pure boy laying in his lap going to say those words to his own detriment? And to who? And what would be the things he’d end up having to do because he thought it would make others happy? How far was Peter willing to fling himself with no regard for his personal welfare for the sake of others if he was already like this at the ripe old age of eight.

“You are doing it” Ben assured him as he ran his arm up and down Peter’s back, “You’re doing it by just being you, Pete. That’s all I need. That’s all we need. But I can tell you’re tired and you need to go back to bed.”

Peter sighed, his hand looped into Ben’s, the same way it had done eight years and five months before when Ben had held him for the first time and his heart utterly captured.

“Don’t want you to be alone” he muttered.

Ben took a deep breath before summoning all of his strength and standing up with Peter in his arms. He shifted the boy around a little before heading back inside and towards his bedroom. Peter didn’t try to squirm or struggle at all, he was already asleep by the time Ben placed him back down into his bed and kissed his forehead. He stroked back Peter’s brown locks and sighed deeply.

This kid had just sucker punched his heart for the god-knows-how-many time and Ben was still a stupid enough man to have been surprised by it.

 _What would you do?_ The question weighed heavily on Ben’s mind. He had never been a violent person but the thought of someone hurting Peter in any way made his blood boil. Any of the boys, really, but especially Peter.

_What would you do?......I’d kill them._

He gasped the realization came so easily and so suddenly to him. Ben had never thought he’d be capable of murder but for Peter…..god, for Peter….just about anything was possible. He could only hope he would never have to.

*

_Sunday 15 th March 2009, Osborne Penthouse, Manhattan, New York._

Ben had never liked Steven Westcott. He tried to make a habit of not pre-judging people before he knew them all that well, but he’d never exactly had much of a chance to warm to the man from the off. As much as Richard had come home from his first ever semester at Harvard full of the joys about how wonderful Mary Holland was, it had only been equaled by his passionate hatred of Steven and his apparent playboy ways and carefree attitude. The hatred had only intensified after July the 4th in 1989 when Richard had returned home from a trip to Florida positive that Steven was getting ready to make a move on Mary, now surely the love of Ben’s younger brother’s life.

That never happened and Mary had settled down with Norman, but Ben had ended up meeting Steven a few times through being involved in their circle thanks to May, and based off of his own impressions, he’d decided Steven Westcott was not a man he trusted. Ben had always had an eye for these kind of things. When he and Richard were young boys who were more or less fending for themselves in the harsh cold streets of early 1980’s Queens, it had been Ben who had clocked that the friendly priest who was helping out some of the young boys in need didn’t have the godly intentions he claimed.

Ben had never trusted Henry Flannagan, and he’d never trusted Steven Westcott either.

It was a distrust he could never prove and Steven was so charismatic and beloved by everyone around them that Ben never really spoke up about it. Flannagan had been more blatant in his abuse of power – blatant enough that a fourteen-year old boy with everything to lose by speaking out against him knew he had no other choice – but for the past fourteen years, Steven Westcott had never put a foot wrong. It eventually got to the point where Ben convinced himself he’d been wrong. That his bad feelings about the man came as a consequence of Richard ranting and raving about him for all those years and, after all, didn’t everyone deserve a second chance? Especially when they’d not actually done anything themselves to lose the first one.

So, Ben learned to bite his tongue. He didn’t ignore the signs because Steven never gave off any signs, but deep-down Ben knew. Ben knew it was all an act and that there was something deep and rotten in Norman Osborne’s best friend. That title alone was more than enough to warrant a hard side-eye on its own as Ben had long since stopped trusting Norman as well, but that was a much more intricate and long-haul game of chess as far as he was concerned. There was no way of getting rid of Osborne that quickly, but Ben knew he would be able to pounce on Westcott the second he gave him reason.

But, despite all that, despite Westcott giving Ben the exact same chills that Flannagan had given him as a teenager, Ben had never for a second suspected Steven would have ever harmed the kids. He always assumed Steven’s evil would end up manifesting itself in hurting women his own age or stealing elderly people’s life savings but on that fateful March evening, Ben knew the score the second Steven Westcott turned up drunk and disheveled on the Osborne’s doorstep screaming, crying and begging to see Peter Osborne as if his whole life depended on it.

The second he opened his mouth; it all became heartbreakingly clear and Ben seemed to be the only one in the room who clocked it. Maybe because he’d been the only one who had known to look.

Ben despaired as he watched Mary flannel about as usual, panicking over everything but the welfare of the son who at that time needed her the most. He loved Mary, truly. She was the closest thing he had ever had to a sister but sometimes she drove him crazy with how she seemed to lose herself in times of crisis. She never, ever did the right thing. And no one else seemed to really be acknowledging how distressed and broken Peter’s screams at Westcott had sounded before he ran upstairs. Ben didn’t blame May, it wasn’t her responsibility, but neither Mary nor Norman were in Ben’s good books as he trudged up the stairs to Peter’s bedroom.

Ben stood in Peter’s doorway. The boy was so unbelievably intelligent and emotionally mature beyond his years that Ben would sometimes just forget how young he actually was. But he couldn’t forget now. Not as he looked around the bedroom filled with school certificates, a Gryffindor poster and a mini microscope placed on the windowsill. This was a child’s bedroom. And the child who occupied it was laying, sobbing, right in the middle on his bed with no around to comfort him. Peter, as always, hiding his pain for the sake of other people.

“Damn kid, you got some pipes” Ben tried for a false smile as he managed to smirk from the doorway, “Think you managed to give him a peace of your mind.”

“Just wanted him to go away” Peter muttered brokenly. His little voice quivering as his somehow even tinier right now body shook and Ben’s heart felt like it was about to shatter into a million little pieces, “He was scaring Harley and Abbie.”

“And you, presumably?” Ben asked. _Talk about you, Peter! Tell me how it affected you_

“I don’t matter” Peter replied as if it was matter-of-fact. Ben could have burst into tears right there. The poison had already seeped in to this eleven-year old’s mind. He genuinely felt like he didn’t matter. There were a lot of people with a lot of things to answer for.

Or were there? Was he overreacting? Peter had never exactly had the greatest handle on his emotions, especially not with all of his seizures and illnesses over the last few years, maybe his anguish was just born from this one incident? Peter had always been close with Steven, maybe it was all totally innocent and the boy had just been scared.

_Please God let it be totally innocent._

“Don’t talk like that, kid” Ben snapped, “I don’t know what’s going on with Westcott but please don’t let it bother you too much. Everyone’s been doing so well lately; it’d be a shame to let one thing with a guy like that ruin it.”

“He hurts people, Ben” Peter replied, looking at his Uncle. It was then that Ben knew there was nowhere to run to now, no denial left to cling to. Steven had hurt Peter. He’d hurt Peter in the worst possible way, “Skip hurts people. He hurts them bad cos he makes them think they matter and then makes them know they don’t.”

Ben frowned.

“You talking about you?” he asked.

Peter didn’t reply, but that was as good as confirmation in Ben’s eyes. The kid would always panic and jump to defend whoever was accused of hurting him if he didn’t want something to be done about it. The fact Peter hadn’t wholeheartedly jumped to Westcott’s defense told Ben everything he needed to know.

“I love you, Peter” he whispered as he hugged Peter into his side and kissed the top of his head, “I love you so much. You are a perfect, brilliant boy and I promise you that no one is ever going to hurt you again. Not if I have anything to do with it.”

If Peter heard him, he gave no indication. The boy just continued to sit on his bed, shaking, with his arms tucked over his knees. Ben slipped a jumper over his head and laid him under the covers before he heard coughing at the door. Harry. Ben shushed him before quietly making his way over and closing the door behind him so Peter wouldn’t hear and freak out over what Harry had clearly come to say.

“What’s wrong with him?” Harry asked, “Why’s he so upset? Is it something to do with Uncle Skip?”

“I’m not sure pal” Ben lied. He knew it was but what was the point of dragging Harry into things before he knew for sure what was going on himself. “Just stay here and make sure Peter’s OK, please. I need to go and speak with your Dad.”

“Don’t you think Peter’s been acting kind of strange lately?” Harry asked as Ben moved past him to race back downstairs, “Like, for real, he’s been acting off since just after Abbie was born and Dad had that big fallout with Skip.”

“Wait, fallout?” Ben asked, rounding back on Harry, “What fallout? No one ever told me about it.”

“Well, I don’t think I was really supposed to know” Harry said slowly, “I only overheard them shouting in Dad’s study and then I saw Uncle Skip leave without saying good bye which was really weird cos he always says goodbye, especially to Peter. And I didn’t see him again before tonight. Gotta be something to do with that, right?”

“Yeah, maybe” Ben breathed back, “Did you hear what it was all about?”

Harry shook his head.

“A deal gone wrong from what I could tell” he answered, “I don’t know what they all get up to in that office, could be over anything. Don’t know why it’d involve Peter though. Maybe you should ask your brother.”

Ben nodded. He hadn’t missed his little brother’s name drop in the middle of all of this, especially concerning considering that he and Steven had always hated one another and now they were apparently trading secrets.

Maybe this would go someway to explaining why May and Richard were not currently speaking with one another.

“You don’t think someone’s like….hurt Peter, do you?” Harry asked. Ben closes his eyes and took a deep breath. He hated lying but there were times when it was necessary.

“I don’t know” he replied, “I don’t know if someone has, I don’t know if someone hasn’t, that’s why I need to go and talk to your Dad.”

Harry sighed and nodded before heading into Peter’s room.

*

“A word” Ben whispered in the ear of Quentin Beck who had sat himself back down at the living room table. Beck rolled his eyes and followed Ben into Norman’s study. The man in question was busy on the phone with other matters that Ben had to assume weren’t to do with the welfare of either his wife or children.

Beck followed Ben into the study and sighed as he shut the door quietly behind him.

“What’s this about, Parker?” Beck asked.

“I wanna know what you know” Ben snapped, “What you were saying to Westcott before we threw him out? That thing about not keeping the end of the deal, what did you mean by that? What kind of deal have you made with him?”

Beck smirked and crossed to the other side of the room.

“It’s none of your concern” he said coldly, “Whatever deals were made between Mr. Osborne and Mr. Westcott are none of your business whatsoever, Parker.”

“Is that so?” Ben snapped, he never needed much of an excuse to want to punch the lights out of this sniveling little shit and he was just itching too right now, “Because in case you forgot you glorified intern, I’m head of Osborne security. I need to know if and why certain people are barred from entering any of the premises so I can do my job properly.”

“Job? Is that what you think you have?” Beck snarled taking a step closer to Ben. He was several inches taller but Ben was not remotely intimidated by him. He was more intimidated by Harry in a teenage grump than he was by Quentin Beck, “All you are is a dogs body. Here to be a puff piece, to watch over those brats when they get in the way of business. It’s an act, Parker, wake up and realize that.”

Ben was all too aware by this point that his job as head of security was total bullshit. He was around just so Norman could keep an eye on him and make sure no boats were being rocked too heavily by May and Richard. But that didn’t mean Ben had to put up with being spoken to like this by some snotty kid who’d never experienced the real world and had only landed this job due to connections.

So, he punched Beck in the face and smiled as the man cried and fell to the floor. Ben got down on one knee and held the sniveling brat up by the chin.

“You’re gonna tell me what’s gone down between Westcott and Norman and you’re going to tell me now” he threatened, “There’s a sweet, innocent kid upstairs who’s traumatized as fuck because of something Westcott did and you’re going to tell me what it is.”

“He will” Norman Osborne’s cold, dronie voice echoed across the room. Ben took a deep breath and turned to face his quote-un-quote boss who smiled, rolled up his cufflinks and strode across the room before sitting down at his desk and pouring himself a glass of scotch.

“Boss, he just assaulted me” Beck panted.

“Good, I dare say you probably deserved it, Quentin. You can be very trying.” Norman smirked before downing his drink in one, “Now, why don’t you tell Mr. Parker here all about that fateful January evening?”

Beck stuttered as Ben finally released him. He looked pale and almost a little haunted by the request, almost as if he’d never expected to actually have to re-tell the story. The same pit of dread that had opened up a chasm in Ben’s gut was growing wider and wider by the second.

“I, err-well, West-Westc-“ Beck began but then Norman slammed his glass down on his desk, shattering it before standing up and effortlessly regaining his composure. Ben watched as Norman walked towards one of the windows and stayed with his back turned towards both of his colleagues, just staring out of the window.

“Norman, tell me what happened” Ben asked softly, deciding he may as well try and talk to the more human side of his boss, the one that would begrudgingly admit in an almost shame faced way that he did hold some affection for all of his children deep down, “Whatever happened to Peter, I’m sure we can fix it.”

“I fear that’s not an option, Benjamin” Norman sighed, “You see the kind of damage that Steven inflected on dear, sweet Peter is damage that I fear cannot be undone. At least not now, not for years. We might not even know the effects of it for years to come, let alone thinking about any kind of a recovery.”

“What do you mean?” Ben asked, “What the hell did Steven do to Peter?”

Norman turned around and stared Ben out with cold, dead, red eyes.

“He raped him” Norman said simply, “Went into his bedroom, pinned my boy down and took his innocence away from him.”

Ben fell back into a chair as the weight of the words and the casual, matter-of-fact way in which they were delivered in hit him like a ten-ton truck. He looked up at Norman whose face was clearly tinged with a sense of regret, but Ben couldn’t help but feel it was regret born out of having to tell Ben rather than regret born of what happened to Peter.

God, Peter. That poor sweet angel. Ben had never expected his fears over Peter to have been confirmed so quickly.

“Wh-when did this happen?” Ben stuttered.

“January” Norman said simply, “The night you took Harley to go and visit Mary and Abigail at the hospital. Harold was staying with his friend, so it was just going to be Peter and Quentin and myself at home for the evening and I had some business to attend to with Steven. By the time he left the house just before you came back, he’d taken advantage of Peter.”

“I want to say I can’t believe it” Ben said, stunned, “But this is all making sense to me, why the hell is this all making sense to me?”

“Because Westcott is a creep” Beck answered for him, “And because he was the reason for Peter’s sudden change in behaviour last fall. The secrecy. Hiding in his room. He was grooming the boy with a secret cellphone.”

“And you both knew about this?” Ben barked, quick some of his anger was managing to wade through the shock and the horror, “And you didn’t think to say or do anything until it was too late? How the hell could you let things get this far?”

“It was already too late to do anything about it” Norman snapped, “Steven had found out some sensitive information and was blackmailing-“

“Blackmailing?” Ben asked, “What over?”

“Ask your brother” Beck said bitterly. Ben rounded on him.

“Excuse me?” he asked, “What did you say about your brother?”

“I said ask your brother what Westcott was blackmailing us all over” Beck snarled, “Because he is the reason the house of cards fell down. He is the reason we’re in this mess because he got drunk at Tony Stark’s Christmas party and blabbed to Westcott about-“

“About what?” Ben demanded, “What damn it.”

“Some private company dealings it’s best you don’t know about” Norman interjected quickly before Beck could flare up again, “If you really want to know, I suggest asking your brother, or at least getting him to explain why he felt the need to jeopardize everything we’ve been working towards for the last six years.”

“OK” Ben breathed, “So, Westcott was blackmailing you and-and what-?”

Norman’s face turned ashen. Almost like he was actually feeling shame for once in his life and Beck was looking firmly at the floor as if he wanted to burn a whole all the way through it with his eyes.

And another piece of this terrible, ugly jigsaw puzzle fell into place for Ben.

“Tell me, tell me you didn’t” he begged as he looked up at Norman with tears in his eyes. The man coughed before turning away once again.

“I was unaware of Westcott’s….intentions towards my son until that evening” he said, “If I had known prior to that, I would have used them as leverage, but it was too late to do anything about that. Steven already had solid evidence of what we’ve been doing, given to him by your brother, and he wanted something in return.”

“I’m gonna be sick” Ben wheezed.

“Believe me, it doesn’t help” Beck whimpered.

“Peter had broken things off with him, you might say. Their special connection” Norman carried on bitterly, “But Steven wouldn’t have that….he was tenacious and he wasn’t going away until he got what he wanted”

“And what he wanted was-“

“Yes, I’m sorry to say” Norman replied heavily, “This doesn’t bring me any-“

“If you dare finish that fucking sentence” Ben finally exploded, “There is nothing you can say here that is ever, ever going to excuse or justified this!”

“Don’t you think we know that” Beck snapped suddenly, after a few minutes of crouching down in the corner wringing his hands, “This was something that got out of hand-“

“OUT OF HAND” Ben roared, “You two stand by and let an eleven-year old boy go through like that and all you can say is that it got out of hand.”

“Keep your voice down” Osborne snarled, “I don’t want Mary, May or any of the kids to know about this-“

“Peter knows though, doesn’t he” Ben snapped, “That poor boy has had to live with this for two months all on his own, having nightmares, not feeling safe in his own house and no one to talk to about it!”

“We didn’t-“

“If you dare say you didn’t think about him!” Ben snarled, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, he didn’t think he’d ever been this angry in his life. This wasn’t just evil; it was utterly psychotic. “How many times do I have to say this HE’S ELEVEN YEARS OLD.”

“There are things you don’t understand at play here, Parker.” Norman snarled, “Things bigger than Peter, bigger than Westcott, bigger than me. I couldn’t risk what he knows getting out, it would have ruined everything.”

“What is it?” Ben demanded, “What is it that you’ve done that’s so bad you could ever justify putting a little boy through this kind of trauma. And not just any little boy, Norman, this is your son. He’s just a _baby_.”

“Like we said before, ask your brother” Beck sighed.

“Does he know about this?” Ben asked, “Does he know that-?”

“He knows we managed to get Westcott off of our backs” Norman replied, “He doesn’t know how and he’s not going to know how. There’s no point in anymore people finding out about this than need to-“

“And Mary isn’t a part of this exclusive club then?” Ben asked, “The boys own mother doesn’t deserve the chance to get to comfort her baby, doesn’t have a right to know what kind of a hell her son is living through-“

“Mary has just had a baby” Norman sighed, “She is tired and she is stressed. She does not need to know about this.”

“Well, I’ll be the judge of that-“

“We know about Sokovia, Ben” Norman said quickly as Ben rushed towards the door, intent on telling Mary everything, “Every little detail. Even the parts you’ve never told May. I’ve got the bank statements showing you bailed Richard out and I’ve got the flight records showing you going out there to help clear up the mess….see what Quentin meant about the house of cards is right, once you take one out, the whole structure is at risk-“

“That has nothing to do with-“

“Oh but you see it does” Norman explained, “Because if you go out there and tell Mary about what that man has down to our son, she’ll call the police. And they’ll ask questions and if Westcott knows he has nothing left to lose he won’t think twice about telling them everything he knows. And he knows everything.”

Ben blinked.

“Everything?” he asked.

“Everything” Norman confirmed with a nod, “You may not like what’s happened and you may despise the sight of myself and Quentin and you have every right, but I think you understand what is to be lost here. Peter will be….he will be looked after. He is surrounded by people who cherish and adore him. They will help heal him. What I had to allow happen was tragic but it was simply-“

“Don’t finish that sentence” Ben pleaded tearfully, “I can’t bare it. And what about justice? When does he get justice for what happened to him? When does Peter get to see that bad people who do bad things get what’s coming to them in the end.”

“Don’t be so naïve, Benjamin, we both know the world doesn’t work like that” Norman smirked, “If you’re determined to find justice for Peter, then do what you must, but don’t expect me to believe it’s some kind of grand lesson on right and wrong. If you want to hurt Steven, do it because you want to hurt him, don’t dress it up as something noble. Remember I know your capacity for darkness, Mr. Parker, it’s why you’re here.”

Ben looked between Norman and Beck. He wondered if there were two people on the Earth more sniveling and despicable than either of them. Maybe Richard. Maybe Ben himself, he’d already accepted there was no way he could speak out against Westcott now without hurting the people he most loved and scarring them for the rest of their lives.

Unless.

Unless Westcott was out of the picture. Silenced by death. Unable to dredge up the past that so haunted every living person gathered under this roof. At least if Steven Westcott were dead, Ben could speak out. He could make sure Peter got justice and that Mary Osborne could finally see what a monster she was married to.

This seemed insane….that he could consider murder. And this would be pre-meditated murder as well. Ben was aware that he would be turning up to Steven Westcott’s apartment with the intention of the man being dead when he left. And yet, Ben was under no doubt that he could pull it off.

Always, anything, for Peter.

“I’d protect you, Benjamin” Norman told him as he went to leave the room again, “Don’t think I am not disgusted by what that monster has done to my son. Don’t think I wouldn’t be grateful to the person who finally extinguished him.”

“And why haven’t you done it yourself?” Ben asked as he turned back around faced Norman, who smiled and took another drink.

“Because, dear boy, I simply wouldn’t be able to” he said, “He may be a rapist but Steven Westcott is one of the only people who has ever shown me genuine kindness. I can’t bring myself to do away with people who have shown me kindness.”

Ben turned and left.

It was an hour before he arrived at Westcott’s apartment complex. He’d driven around for a while, trying to navigate the storms in his head, trying to make sense of them in order to decide whether he could truly go ahead with what he was considering. Killing a man. Taking his life in nothing other than cold blood.

And then his mind would fall back to Peter.

Peter.

His Peter.

Sweet Peter, who had comforted him when his father died, and had always hidden what he wanted deep inside for the sake of pleasing others. Peter, who had been taken advantage of in the worst possible way and was suffering in silence and would likely continue suffering in silence for the rest of his life because he knew the truth would hurt the people that he loved.

And then Ben could no longer escape the inevitable, Westcott needed to die. He wondered for a few seconds if he could source some kind of hitman to do it for him but there was still the selfish and undeniably dark part of Ben’s personality that wanted to see the light finally leave the bastard rapist’s eyes for good. He pulled up the car and looked up at the flat he knew to be Steven’s from dropping Mary and the boys off here on more than a few occasions. The lights were still on and Ben’s anger only rose as he looked up and considered the fact that Steven was still alive in there.

Probably planning his next move.

He’d probably been following Peter around since it happened, trying to plot when he could next get to him, trying to take what he wanted once again as if he hadn’t already taken everything he could from the poor boy.

Ben loved Peter. It was effortless to love that boy. It came like breathing and he deserved the absolute world. He was 11-years old and he was already the kindest person that Ben had ever met. The way he’d gripped Ben’s finger with his tiny little hand when he was barely a week old, the way he’d ignored his fear of water just to make Harry happy, the way he sought Ben out deliberately to make sure he was OK after his father died, the way he sat by Harley at every meal time making sure he was eating and holding his hand, hell even that very morning when Ben and May had arrived at the Penthouse to find Peter talking baby Abigail through building a Lego tower, placing his little sister on his knee as he handed her piece after piece.

And all this, six weeks after a man he’d trusted his entire life had come into his room and violated him.

Ben’s phone rang. Richard. He let it go to voicemail. He would be having words with his little brother and soon but now was not the time.

He made his way up to Westcott’s apartment door and was surprised to find it was already partially opened.

Taking a deep breath, Ben opened it fully and entered. Inside, only chaos reigned.

*

_Sunday, May 31 st, 2009, Osborne Manor, Long Island, New York._

“And that’s everything?” a tearful Mary Osborne asked him. He’d just armed with her around three quarters of the real story, one big omittance, but it was enough that Ben felt satisfied in telling her. Nothing could ever make this situation right but at least he’d managed to make it so Mary knew what had happened to her son and wouldn’t want to push for Westcott’s murder to be investigated more than it already had been.

“Yeah, that’s pretty much it” Ben sighed, “I went to the apartment, confronted him, we had words and then I pushed him and he fell and hit his head on the table. He was dead before he reached the ground.”

“A shame” Mary said angrily, “He went so quickly, robbed you of the chance of making it more painful.”

“There’s no pleasure in killing anyone, Mary, no matter what they’ve done” he told her, “It doesn’t feel right, you’re never the same after it.”

“Do you regret it?” she asked him.

“Not for a second” he replied, “I just wish the whole damn situation never had to have happened at all.”

“And this secret?” Mary went on, “This thing that Richard told Steven, this thing that spooked him so much he’d….he’d do that to his own son, you still don’t know what that is?”

“No” Ben replied honestly, “To be honest, I don’t see what good it could do me at this point, there’s nothing I can do about it anyway and I’m already losing enough sleep over this, I don’t need anymore reasons. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say that to me” Mary snapped, but she was not angry, “You don’t ever get to say sorry to me again, not after what you’ve done. You’ve made sure that monster can never get anywhere near my boy or any others again. Even if…even if he’d gone to prison, there was always the risk that he would have got released eventually. You hear about it all the time, don’t you? Rapists doing a goody-two shoes act on the inside to get themselves an early release and then within days they’re back to their old tricks on the outside. Steven would have done that. And he’d have made a beeline for Peter when he did – did he, did he have any last words? Say anything?”

Ben shook his head.

“If he did, I can’t recall them” he sighed, “I was out of it, Mary. I just wanted to hurt him and I did and the second I didn’t need to be there anymore, I just bolted. Went home, had a shower, got rid of my clothes. Life went on.”

“Does May have any idea?”

Ben closed his eyes and sighed. It was stupid to be worried about May’s reaction, really, because he knew she would stand by him no matter what. She would be baying for Steven’s blood in the same way they all were. But still….the thought of her thinking that he had killed another man in cold blood, it just didn’t sit right with him.

“No, and I’d rather she never did” he replied, “There’s enough people that know about this now to make a difference. We can care for Peter and look after him without having to worry about that man creeping over our shoulders. That’s enough.”

“For you, maybe” Mary sighed.

They were back at the manor house now. Rain still lashed down unforgivingly outside but Norman was home. His Bentley was parked in the driveway and the lights were on in his study, and Ben knew Mary Osborne well enough by now to know that she would want to have it out with her husband. There was no love there anymore and everything that Ben had just told her was probably enough to push Mary into a state of outright loathing the man. Not that he could blame her.

The only reason Ben was even still around was so he could carry on protecting the boys and because Norman wasn’t someone he felt he could just walk away from and not suffer through some form of consequence. They may have been on the same side when it came to the case of Steven Westcott, but at the end of the day, Norman Osborne was a two-faced snake and what’s more he was a two-faced snake who thought that Ben Parker had killed a man in cold blood. Ben knew that Norman wouldn’t be above using that as leverage against him one day if he so chose and that he was clever enough to twist things so that Ben would pay the appropriate legal price.

And Ben was willing to go to prison for what he’d supposedly done, or at least he had been prepared at the start. Ever since Steven’s death, Ben had realized that this was no longer about him and what he wanted or what was right, it was what was needed. And those boys needed him around to keep them safe. So that was exactly what he was going to do.

“Richard” Mary said after a few seconds, “Maybe I should talk to him again. He seemed pretty on edge when we last spoke. He’s the one who told me about Steven, maybe he’ll give me the full story.”

“Yeah, maybe he will” Ben sighed.

“You know about us don’t you?” Mary asked, “Me and him. You know there’s a chance that Abigail might not be Norman’s daughter.”

Ben almost laughed. Of course he knew that he’d known all-along. Though Richard had become alarmingly adapt at keeping secrets from him in the last few years, Ben still found his little brother to be a totally open book when it came to the subject of Mary Holland. Their affair had been pretty much written in the sky with neon flashing lights for Ben since the day it started, but what good would saying anything have achieved?

Mary seemed to take his laughter as a yes.

“Be careful” Ben told her, “We both know Norman doesn’t get spooked easily and whatever Westcott found out from my brother really spooked him.”

“It’s Richard” Mary said with a smile, “He’s not going to hurt me. He’ll tell me what I need to know.”

“When are you going to go?” Ben asked.

Mary sighed and unfastened her seatbelt before exiting Ben’s car. He followed and was relieved to see she was returning to the house.

“Mary?”

“Just give me some time to think, Ben, please” she asked, “This is a lot to take in and I have to do some serious thinking before I know what to do next. Now, can you please go and make sure the boys are alright whilst I try and gather myself.”

Ben sighed. As always, Mary was falling apart under pressure. He knew she loved the boys but time and time again she failed to put them before her own concerns when she was under any kind of stress. Peter had been raped, she had just found out and instead of staying with him, she had had him drive her to the rapist gravesite and was now sitting down in the kitchen with a glass of red wine in her hands.

“Fine” he said shortly, “But whatever you decide to do Mary, you have four kids upstairs who love and need you. They have to come first, they have to.”

“Yeah, I know” Mary sighed. She downed her drink as Ben left her and bolted up the stairs to Harry’s bedroom where he knew all the boys slept nowadays. Trying to wade through their various differing traumas together in the absence of parents who gave a damn.

“Sweet aren’t they?” May whispered as she appeared behind Ben a few minutes later whilst he stood in Harry’s doorway and looked at the three sleeping boys, “Abigail’s down for the night as well now. Going to head there myself in a few minutes, you with me?”

“Too wired” Ben sighed, “Crazy night.”

“What happened? Where did you take Mary?” May asked.

“Just for a drive” Ben lied. He knew he should probably tell her the full truth about Skip and the lot but for the next few hours he wanted to bask in her not knowing. Ben knew that May would stand by him beyond all measure but he just wanted some more time where she wouldn’t have to look at him like he was a murderer, “Let her out, she screamed, we came back and now she’s going to go and talk to Richard.”

“Richard, why-?”

“Loads of things” Ben said quietly, his eyes not drifting away from the boys, “One of which is probably going to be breaking off their affair for good….yes, I know.”

“I’m sorry” May muttered, “I should have told you.”

“We all have our reasons for keeping things quiet” Ben replied, “I’m not mad at you. I know you were just being the best friend she’s never quite deserved.”

“That’s not fair, Ben” May said testily, “She does her best.”

“She doesn’t do anywhere near her best and you damn well know it” Ben snapped, “If she was doing her best, she’d be up here now with her boys and not downstairs in the kitchen drinking red wine like it’s going out of fashion. Her priorities are all screwed up. Don’t you ever think how you’ve raised those boys more than either of their parents? Doesn’t the incense you?”

May smiled and kissed Ben on the cheek.

“It’s been an emotional night” she whispered, “I’m going to have a shower and go to bed, just try and calm yourself down a little bit before you jump down my throat again. We need to be a united front on this, Ben, or what was the point?”

Ben feigned a smile as she kissed him once again and headed off to bed. Ben sighed and leaned against the doorway as the boys slept. Harley’s arm was still cast protectively over Peter and Harry’s lanky teenage one was able to spread across them both, and somehow Peter looked peaceful and at ease sandwiched in-between his brothers.

The front door slammed.

Ben turned and raced back downstairs where he found Norman standing in the foyer with a cut to his cheek and his hair looking disheveled. Ben guessed Mary had decided to have the difficult conversation with him after all.

“I suppose it was too much to expect that you would keep your mouth shut for too long, wasn’t it?” Norman snarled as Ben entered his eyeline, “She is going to go and see your brother and he’ll likely tell her everything because he’s a total sap.”

“Maybe it’s better like this” Ben sighed, “Maybe it’ll be worth it in the end. I’ll hold my hands up to what I’ve done if I’m asked, I won’t drag you down with me. Just let me take the fall, even if you deserve it more. I know I can’t get any mud to stick to you so I’m not even gonna try.”

“She will” Norman said, “Mary will try and take me for all I’ve got. I’ve no doubt she’ll manage to find a way to keep you out of this….and, Christ, maybe that is the right thing to do. You’re not the one in this situation who deserves to be punished.”

“But I should beware the lengths you’ll to go to stop that from happening” Ben finished for him. He knew Norman Osborne too well.

“Whoever said you were just a pretty face with nothing going on inside was dead wrong, weren’t they Benjamin?” he smirked, “How long have you known about my wife fucking your brother?”

“How long have you known?” Ben asked. He wasn’t shocked Norman knew. Mary and Richard were hardly what you’d call discreet and Norman was a power-hungry sociopath who had to micromanage and control the lives of everyone around him and spin their actions to his own advancement. It would be naïve to believe he wasn’t fully aware.

“Since before they even started” Norman said bitterly, “Doesn’t really matter to me, she’s free to do what she wants and who she wants as long as she toes the line back here. There was a time she understood that, but not in the last few years. She’s changed.”

A creek behind them on the stairs alerted both and Ben sighed as a tearful Harry gulped and slowly made his way to the foyer after being spotted. Norman folded his arms and looked furious as the teenager shuffled towards them, eyes fixated on Ben as a source of protection and comfort.

Ben stood a little in front of Harry by the time he’d finished approaching.

“Why are you out of bed, Harold?” Norman asked.

“Heard voices” Harry replied, “Wanted to know what was going on, plus you nearly woke up Harley and Peter. And probably Abbie too.”

“I’d rather you have stayed in bed, Harold” Norman replied coldly, “You know very well adult matters are of none of your concern. Now, go back to bed.”

“Where’s Mom?” Harry asked, ignoring his father’s direct instructions, “She said she’d be back hours ago and we haven’t seen her since. Peter’s gonna need her to be here when he wakes up.”

“She’s gone to speak to your Uncle Richard” Norman snarled, “Though I guess if you’ve been sitting on the stairs eavesdropping for long enough you might be aware that you may need to start calling something a little different in the not too distant future.”

Harry’s hands were shaking and he was running his left hand up and down his right arm, fidgeting in space with his discomfort.

“Did you know about what happened to Peter?” he asked.

“Go to bed, Harold”

“You did, didn’t you! And you didn’t say anything! You could have stopped it, stopped it before-“

“Before _what_ , Harold” Norman barked as he rounded back on his eldest son. Ben shot Harry a warning glance to stop talking and thankfully the boy seemed to register it, “Why for one in your life can you not just listen to me, go back to bed.”

“No” Harry replied standing his ground, “You don’t get to boss me around and tell me what to do after what you’ve done.”

“Harry-“

“No, I’m sick of it” Harry snapped and pushed Ben out of his way. He stormed over to his father and looked him dead in the eye, “He’s always telling us what to do and expecting us to respect him when he’s done nothing to earn it! He doesn’t love us; all he does is try to control us and you know what – I’m glad Mom’s sleeping with Uncle Richard cos it means she’s probably gonna leave you for him and then we-“

Harry was shut up with a very harsh slap to the face from his father and fell to the floor. Ben sighed and hated himself a little more for his inability to step in before it escalated to physical violence. Harry whimpered and cried on the floor as his cheek bled, Norman having caught him with his wedding ring.

“Why do you always do it, Harold” Norman said sadly as he looked down at his son, “Why do you always have to push me this far?”

“I hate you!” Harry cried, “I wish you were dead as well. I wish you weren’t my father; I wish Ben was. At least he loves us. At least he tries to protect us like a real dad should!”

Ben was fearful that Norman was about to move in for a second attack and was fully prepared to stand in-between father and son this time around, but Norman merely sighed and threw his hands up in the air before retreating back into his study. Ben put his full strength into sitting Harry up and held him against his chest.

“I’m sorry” the teenage muttered, “I know you told me that I should try and keep hold of my anger.”

“There’s no excuse for your father laying his hands on you, Harry” Ben told him, “My advice over your anger still stands but that doesn’t mean it’s OK that he hits you. He won’t do it again if I have anything to say about it.”

“It’s fine” Harry replied, “I kinda deserve it, after everything I’ve done.”

Ben paused for a moment. The damage being done to these boys was just so perverse and he couldn’t stand by and watch it happen anymore. Change had to come now.

“Hey, let’s get you back to bed” he whispered as Harry finally stood up, “And tomorrow, I’m gonna make some calls and shift some things around, and I can promise you that your Dad will never touch you again….OK?”

“OK” Harry said with a nod, “Is-was Mom OK? When you went out with her, and don’t tell me you didn’t because I know you did.”

“She was fine” Ben lied, “Just needed to let off some steam and then she decided she needed to go and talk to your Uncle Rich.”

“Did you tell her-?”

“No”

“OK”

“I swore to you I wouldn’t and I don’t break my promises, Harry” Ben sighed as he cast an arm around Harry’s increasingly broad shoulders as he steered them back upstairs, “You just stick to your end of the deal.”

“I’m trying” Harry sighed, “It’s hard though, I just get so angry sometimes.”

Ben ruffled his hair as they reached his bedroom and watched as Harry quietly made his way back into bed and resumed holding his two little brothers in place. There was some vague muttering from Peter who seemed to ask where he’d gone off too and Harry replied that he’d just gone to use the bathroom. Peter hummed happily before falling back to sleep right away.

Across the hall, Norman was getting ready to go to bed himself. Ben turned around and locked eye-contact with him.

They were stuck, the two of them.

No love lost now, no way back to any kind of civility or friendship, but unable to completely distance and separate themselves either.

But Ben would stick it out. Always, anything, for those boys. Always, anything, for Peter.

*

_Monday 1 st June 2009, Osborne Manor, Long Island, New York._

A new morning, a new week, and a new month all in one seemed to bring a strange kind if peace and optimism for them as Ben awoke. He smiled and tucked himself into May’s side as her fingers slid across his chest and twisted themselves in his chest hair. She kissed him and he smiled.

“I’m sorry for snapping last night” he said, “There was a lot going on and I shouldn’t have gone off on you like that.”

“It’s fine, and you made some valid points” May replied, “I’m going to sit down with Mary today and tell her things have got to change and soon. She needs to understand that until she leaves him, the boys are going to carry on suffering and sooner than she knows, it’ll be Abbie as well.”

“What do you think about Peter?” Ben asked, “What happened to him.”

“It breaks my heart” she admitted, “But I’m not going to let myself get distracted by how upset or angry it makes me, I’m just going to be there for him. It’s all we can do. Especially with Skip dead. I hope he burns in hell.”

Ben shook off her comments and kissed her again before heading for a shower. By the time he was done, he could hear May and the boys chattering away over breakfast in the living room and hurried downstairs to check on the state of things. It seemed calm, somehow. Harry was sporting a nasty cut on his cheek and clearly hadn’t done too good a job of covering up how he got it judging by the stares Norman was receiving from May as he walked around the bouncing Abbie up and down.

Harley was actually eating without fuss for once, which was rare. He sat next to Peter with a plate of toast and whilst he seemed to be second guessing every mouthful he took; he was still eating away. As usual, Peter was holding his hand under the table. Peter himself seemed quiet and shaky, but that was to be expected, and kept on jumping anytime someone went behind him but he was smiling and joking along with Harry who was telling some story about an incident he and Johnny Storm had found themselves in a few weeks before.

Harry smiled weakly at Ben as he walked past him and Ben returned the gesture by patting Harry on the head before sitting down next to Peter and pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“Where’s Mom?” Harley asked suddenly, “She’s normally up by now.”

“She’s still out” Norman replied coldly. Ben and May both gave him angry looks, “She had some business to sort out last night in the city and decided to stay over in the penthouse before driving back here. I expect she’ll be back before long.”

“Oh, good” Harley said with a smile, “She promised me we could drive into town today and get me some new T-shirts cos a few of mine are too small for me now…..which she says is a good thing and I should be happy ‘bout it.”

“It sure is, sweetie” May said kindly before Norman could interject with a dig. The man appeared to recognize he had been outdone and merely snarled before doing another lap of the room with Abbie. He was a lot more openly affectionate and caring towards her than he ever had been with the boys.

“Do I….do I gotta do anything today?” Peter asked timidly, “Cos I-I-err, I’ll do what-whatever ev-everyone else w-wants to do but I’m a b-bit t-tired.”

May smiled and reached across the table to grab his hand.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do today, sweetie” she said warmly, “And you don’t ever have to anything just because you think someone else wants you to. What would you, Peter, like to do today?”

“Well, everyone else-“

“No, not everyone else, just you, silly” May said with a laugh, “What would Peter most like to do today?”

“Err, watch….movies, I guess” Peter stammered, “If that’s OK? Cos like everyone can pick a movie it doesn’t just have to be the ones I wanna watch and-“

“Nah, you’ve got good taste in movies, Peter” Harry said quickly, “I think we should watch all of your favourite movies today. All the ones you like best.”

Ben winked at Harry who smiled back at him.

“Benjamin, can I have a word in private please?” Norman asked suddenly. Ben nodded as May rolled her eyes on being rather unceremoniously handed Abbie before Norman lead Ben out of the dining room and into his study, where he closed the door behind them.

“What’s this about?” Ben asked.

“Last night” Norman replied, “I’m aware that if we’re going to get through this, then you and I are going to need to be on the same page, even if it may cause us some degree of discomfort. In the interest of that, I would like to apologize to you that you had to witness my display of anger towards Harold last night. I should know better than to lose my temper like that.”

“And yet-“ Ben sighed.

“What Harold said really struck a cord with me” Norman went on, “I don’t wish for my son to hate me or for him to want some other man to be his father, no offence. I was wondering if you would be willing to talk to him for me.”

“Sorry?” Ben asked, “Why should I be expected to clean up for your mess here?”

“Because Harold listens to you” Norman implored, “And I know he’d decide to give me another chance if you would just talk to him. With everything that’s going on right now, I realize I need to be there for my sons more than I have been. And this isn’t an order Benjamin, it’s a request. You can chose to deny me and I will find some other way. A boy needs his father, Benjamin, his real father.”

“I can’t promise Harry will listen” Ben warned him.

“To you? Oh, I have no doubt he will” Norman replied with a smile.

*

On Norman’s suggestion, Ben was taking Harry out for a walk in the woods, just the two of them before they started Peter’s movie marathon before lunch. It had resulted in some minor sulking from Harley who was still sitting by the front door waiting for his mother to return home and take him shopping for new clothes, so proud he was of his weight issues starting to sort themselves out. Peter had more or less accepted it and was playing nicely on the living room floor with Abbie and May when Ben and Harry laughed. Norman and Beck had retired to the study in order to make some calls but to everyone’s surprise Norman had promised to come by and watch the movies with them that afternoon.

Ben had no real idea of how to broach the subject with Harry considering he knew the last thing in the world he should do was encourage Harry to forgive his father’s abuse. He’d only agreed to talk to Harry alone as it gave him the opportunity to check in with him after last night.

“I meant what I said you know” Harry began as they climbed over a fence and headed down to the small river that ran just by the house, “There are times where I really do wish that you were my Dad. I know Peter and Harley do as well.”

“I’m flattered” Ben replied, “And I love you all and care for you all so much, but that doesn’t mean your real Dad stops being your real Dad.”

“I know” Harry sighed as he picked up a stick and began slowly breaking it apart, “I just think that sometimes we have to realize who is and who isn’t good for us. And I don’t think my Dad is very good for us.”

Ben nodded. At least someone else in that house appeared to have arrived at the correct conclusion.

“I’m sorry Harry, you and your brothers deserve better” Ben sighed.

“We’ve got better” Harry replied with a smile, “We’ve got you.”

Ben stopped and smiled as Harry turned around and gave him a big hug, a thing the teenager very rarely incited anymore.

“What’s all this?” Ben chuckled.

“Just wanna thank you, for-y’know” Harry shrugged.

“Don’t mention it” Ben said with a smile, “I told you then and I’m telling you now, part of my job is to protect you, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do. Because I love you, Harry. I love you and all your brothers and little baby Abbie as well. It’s my job to keep you safe.”

“And that’s what makes you more of a Dad than Norman has ever been” Harry said with a smirk as he released himself from the hug, “I know he probably wants you to talk to me about last nigh and get me to forgive him, but I’m not gonna. I meant what I said. He’s dead to me and as far as I’m concerned, you’re my Dad now.”

Harry nodded and walked on as Ben stood there and tried to take in his words. As the teenager disappeared into the trees, Ben knelt down to tie his shoelaces and sighed. This was going to be trickier than he thought.

Then, the screams began.

Feral, awful, animalistic gut-wrenching screams that came pouring up the embankment from the river side and were full of anguish and horror. Ben’s feet carried him as fast as he could down the embankment to where he found Harry Osborne knelt on all four’s by the rivers edge screaming so loud and so painfully that birds were flocking from the trees around him.

The boy continued to scream as if he was seeing nothing but a devilish void as Ben hesitantly approached him, dreading whatever had caused such a reaction. It was like nothing he had ever seen or head before. Harry’s fingers dug into the mud and he began to wipe it all over his face as the screams continued and he started to rock back and forth, wrapping his arms around his waist in a futile effort of self-comfort.

Ben staggered towards him and then he saw.

Oh, he fucking saw.

And he understood, immediately.

It was as if all the gates to hell had opened, all the angels had gone and the devils were all here. As if time itself had folded in and created an aura of chaos around this precise location that could never be scrubbed clean or forgotten. As if Lucifer himself had marched here to create as much chaos and pain as he could.

Like that night in Steven Westcott’s apartment three months before, only chaos reigned here, and there was no end to the pain it would cause.

It had been a nice day up until now but the blue skies suddenly seemed to turn grey, the early Summer air went cold and the entire gravitational pull of the Earth seemed to just disappear. Ben felt like he was floating. Watching it all from above as if he wasn’t an active player below.

But he was.

He was and the screams continued and they were awful and Ben needed them to stop so he could think damn it, think. He fell to his knees and tried to pull Harry away but it was no good, could never be any good, would never be any good.

Because Mary Osborne was laying dead at the side of the river bank with two gunshot wounds to the head, blue skin and her face contorted into an expression of sheer horror that could never be denied or downplayed. She was dead. Dead by someone else’s hand and her thirteen-year old on had been the one to find her.

“MOM NO PLEASE GOD NO!” Harry screamed over and over again as Ben took him in his arms and tried to rock him back and forth, “IT’S ALL MY FAULT! MOM! MOM, I’M SORRY. I’M SO FUCKING SORRY. MOM PLEASE!”

Ben was crying too. He wondered if he’d ever cried this hard. He’d had a lot of shitty moments in his life but nothing compared to this.

“SHE’S DEAD SHE’S FUCKING DEAD!” Harry screamed, “SOMEONE KILLED HER! SHES DEAD SHE’S DEAD!”

“Harry, Harry, Harry” was all Ben could seem to say, determined to focus on the broken boy in his arms and not the fact that there was a watch within his eyeline at the bottom of the embankment, mere centimeters away from Mary, that Ben knew all too well.

Richard’s watch.

A watch Ben had given him.

“MOM!” Harry cried once again and tried to reach towards her but his strength was no match for Ben’s and he was held firmly in place.

“You’re safe” Ben tried to tell him, “Just like I’ve always said, you’re safe. You’re my boy and I’m going to keep you safe. Just like I promised you that night, you’re safe. I’m going to keep you and your brothers safe, Harry, if it’s the last thing I do.”

It did nothing to stop the screams. They sat there, like that, until someone found them.

*

_Sunday, 15 th March 2009, Steven Westcott’s apartment, Manhattan, New York._

Ben cautiously made his way into Westcott’s apartment and was shocked by the state he found it in. Broken plates, broken glasses, a sink full of yet to be washed kitchen ware, books all over the floor, a broken glass coffee table and beneath that coffee table, the lame and limp body of a grown man with his head caved in. Dead. Already dead. Unquestionably, undeniably, dead. Ben had expected to leave this apartment with Steven Westcott having taken his last breaths, he had not expected to do enter it and find they’d already been taken.

And then, in the corner, there he was.

Cuddled up, knees to his chest, looking every bit the child he was.

Harry Osborne. Crying, shaking like a leaf, and looking somewhere between relieved and horrified that an adult he knew and trusted had finally arrived on the scene to take control of this mess.

“Ben” he whispered, clambering forwards, “It was an accident, I swear I never meant it-“

“Harry, how did you-why are you-what have you done?”

“We argued and I pushed him!” Harry said desperately, “I came around to tell him I k-knew what he’d d-done to P-Peter and he gloated about it and then he said he wanted to do the same thing to me and then he grabbed my wrist and tried to kiss me so I-I p-pushed him and he fell through the table and n-now-“

Ben knelt down and felt for a pulse. There was none. And he was already cold.

“Ben you have to help me” Harry whispered with tears in his eyes, “You have to help me, please, I never meant to kill him. It was an accident. I swear it was an accident.”

*

**Author's Note:**

> HEYYY so remember when I said that things were only just getting started? Well, I didn't stutter did I. Things are only just getting started.
> 
> As usual, I hope you all enjoyed this installment, PLEASE leave any comments and questions down below and I will reply,  
> Thanks a lot, stay safe and remember that Black Lives Matter, have always mattered and will always matter,  
> Much love,  
> Jamie  
> xxxx


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